


a love that is homeless

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:57:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I didn’t do it on purpose! I told you it was a disaster. I kept ending up with everyone except you. It was awful.”</p><p>Or the one where Harry really wants to kiss Niall, but his plan never quite works out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a love that is homeless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icanwriteanything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanwriteanything/gifts).



> Merry Christmas! I wasn’t sure if I’d get this done before Christmas, but I’m so glad that I did. I absolutely loved this prompt, it was super cute. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Annnd a huge thank you to my beta and best friend for the moral support and going over this, you rock. The title’s from Secret Love Song, and there may just be a few references to the song throughout.

 

 

The quiet strumming of guitar fills the silent room, and Harry can’t help but smile. The tune isn’t one he’s familiar with, but he tries to hum along anyways. He keeps his face tucked down into the pillow, feeling warmth still clinging to the sheets where Niall had been. “G’morning,” he mumbles, blinking sleepily to look over where the other boy is sitting, now, with his guitar propped up on his leg. It’s a usual sight, but it’s one he never wants to forget. Bits of blonde hair sticking out in every direction, the soft light slipping through the blinds the only thing touching him - he wishes he could keep these moments forever. The ones where it’s just him and Niall and nothing else seems to matter.

“Oh, you’re finally awake?”

 Harry smiles when he hears him strum a tune that’s more familiar, and he decides that he’s probably just tuning his guitar.

 “You just got up.”

 Niall laughs, and Harry knows he isn’t going to argue that.

 “I’ve been awake for a while. You were out like a light though, didn’t want to wake you up.”

 Harry can’t help but to smile sheepishly, finally pushing himself up. “Oh, sorry.”

 Niall shrugs, clearly not concerned. He plays a few more cords before setting the guitar back in its stand, running a hand through his hair as he pulls himself to his feet. “Don’t be.”

 Harry sits up straighter when Niall walks toward him. Once he’s close enough, he reaches to wrap his arms around him. He feels his weight against him, and he falls back easily against the bed, pulling Niall along with a laugh,  running his hands over his back. It was always so easy with Niall, and Harry wished that he could stay there, keeping him close in his arms. His skin is soft and oddly warm under his touch; the feeling isn’t one he’ll ever tired of.

 “What time is it?” Harry asks, a bit reluctantly after another stretch of comfortable silence between them. As much as he wants the moment to last forever, he knows it can’t.

 “Uh, quarter after ten or something.”

 A quiet sigh leaves Harry’s lips, and he lets his head fall back against the bed. “Told Louis and Liam I’d help them buy decorations for the party later. You know how Louis is about his birthday.”

 Niall laughs.

  “Couldn’t forget.”

 “You’re coming, right?”

 Niall’s quiet, for a moment, and Harry wishes he didn’t panic at the pause. He knows better than to jump to conclusions, but he can’t help the doubt that always seemed to seep into his thoughts when Niall hesitates. He has no reason not to come - Louis had been very clear that he expected all of them to be there, no excuses or exceptions. But before he can say something, before he can even frown, Niall’s leaning forward and pressing his lips against his.

“Of course.”

The rest of the morning is quiet, Harry’s favourite kind. It’s stolen kisses and coffee, a few cuddles while Niall makes a fry up for the both of them. He tries to help Niall tidy up a bit before they go,  feeling too guilty to leave without it looking the way it was when they arrived. His eyes hardly ever leave Niall the entire drive back, his chest feeling tighter with every corner they round closer to the tiny house he shares with Liam and Louis.

Harry’s gaze falls once Niall pulls up to the curb outside his house. He smooths his jacket out for something to do before finally looking at him again, noticing the way Niall’s gaze flickers to the house and then around the street, always searching, always keeping an eye out. He knows he’s trying, knows that he wants this more than anything else – but Harry can’t help the sinking feeling, can’t help the way he can’t ever shake it away. The feeling that what they have will never be enough. All he wants to do is kiss him goodbye like he could do if they were in the safety in his house, a place where other eyes were absent.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He tries to keep his voice light, because he understands. He knows how Niall is, despite how much he wishes everything were different.

Niall gives him a strained smile, and Harry softens. Hesitantly, he reaches, curling his fingers delicately around Niall's. He tries to give his hand a reassuring squeeze, because Niall knows that he loves him. Niall knows that Harry would do anything for him. The corners of his lips tug up into a smile when Niall nods, and he tightens his grip just a bit more. Sometimes he feels selfish for how badly he wants more than what they have behind closed doors, because even with Niall across the room he misses him so much sometimes. He’s memorized the little things about him, like the way his touch feels and how he tastes. There are days where all he wants is to reach out and touch him in a crowded room… where he can’t, because that’s the one thing that might send Niall running. 

Harry wishes he could kiss him. Instead, he offers another little squeeze of his hand before he lets go, climbing out of the car, shooting him a warm smile over his shoulder before hopping up the stairs to the front door. When he looks back over, Niall’s still there – waiting, just to be sure. He swears his heart swells in his chest, and he waves once more before stepping inside.

Harry had realized he’d do anything for Niall months ago. Realized he’d do this. It’s not exactly screaming that he loves him from the rooftops, but it’s what Niall needs. Harry will hang on to every stolen moment with a tight knuckled grip, be Niall’s best kept secret, for as long as Niall asks him to.

\--

As a rule, Harry tries to avoid shopping with Louis and Liam together. Bickering generally starts once they get in the car, and doesn’t end until they’re back home. It’s always good natured, of course, that’s just how Louis is. Harry isn’t the mood to listen today, and the moment he steps through the automatic doors he’s peeling himself away from the pair, starting for a section with Christmas decorations half falling off the shelves. He looks over the santa hats, the tacky tree ornaments, and his fingers drift over the plastic leaves on a tiny bunch of mistletoe. He goes to walk past them, but hesitates, looking over the tiny berries with his lips curling downward in a frown.

Harry manages to make it out with two bags full of dollar store decorations, one filled with an excessive amount of mistletoe. Out of all the holidays Louis had decided to throw a party for, the one closest to his birthday made sense - a Christmas party that doubled as a birthday party. Harry thinks that Louis is too pleased about it, considering how obvious the idea is with a birthday falling on Christmas Eve. But he doesn’t take the glory away from his best friend, just nods and smiles the entire time like Louis’ idea is the best one ever (because in Louis’ eyes, his ideas were always the best).

Harry stares at all the decorations that they’ve piled in the middle of the living room, feeling the heat creep up his neck as Louis stares at the excessive amount of mistletoe he purchased.

“For starters-” Louis begins, and Harry knows that he’s going to have a lot to say about this. “- out of everything you could have picked. Out of everything in the entire store. You picked this. I don’t even want to ask what compelled you to buy that much.” He gestures toward the mistletoe exuberantly. Harry almost feels bad, but then quickly comes to the conclusion that he can’t take him seriously. Not when he’s flailing his arms like that and looking like Harry just committed some sort of crime over a couple leaves and berries.

“I also got lights,” Harry tells him cheekily, “and garland. But, it’s a bit unsightly the more that I look at it.”

Louis sighs, picking up a string of white lights.

“Whatever. Come on, boys. We don’t have all day.”

Harry feels triumphant, laughing loudly when Liam pipes up: “we do, actually.”

He gathers up his portion of decorations, looking down at the green and red garland that shimmers in the light. Ugly garland was a part of Christmas, even if they didn’t have a tree (that had been a mutual decision, for all their safety and wellbeing; there was nothing about it that seemed like a good idea, as much as Harry misses having a tree. Nothing says Christmas like the fresh scent of pine in the air, covered with shining lights and delicately painted ornaments).

Decorating is a harder task than he intends on, and Harry eventually gives up on hanging the tacky garland up around the house. He distracts himself by picking off the tiny strands of green and red in his own personal game of he loves me, he loves me not. But he knows the answer, no matter what the garland tells him.

He looks up when light from the window is intercepted, finding Liam standing there in front of him.

“Decorating going well?”

“Oh, yeah. Super well.”

Judging by the lack of decorations, Harry has a feeling Liam’s trying to put it off just as much as he is. Liam toes at the mistletoe in front of him, and Harry watches the downward curl of his lips. “Bit overkill on the mistletoe, mate?”

“Just trying to spread the holiday cheer, Liam. Mistletoe is fun, what’s a kiss between mates?” he offers.

It wasn’t like he had just impulsively purchased as much mistletoe as he possibly could. He wanted to kiss Niall under the mistletoe. It was romantic, there wasn’t anything more festive than kissing someone under the mistletoe. And if there was the whole idea of a harmless kiss between mates behind it, then really – it was a foolproof plan. The probability of extreme disaster is high, but he chooses to ignore that. The doubts had been loud in his mind the entire time he shopped, but he had let it fade away into his own personal background music – too distracted by his own goal at hand. He would kiss Niall under the mistletoe, at all and any cost, and it’d be perfect.

 “That’s a lot of mistletoe for a kiss between mates.”

 Harry shrugs, trying to use the side of his hand to sweep up the excess garland into a pile. He lowers his gaze, focusing on the plastic pieces. “It’ll look nice.”

 “Louis disagrees,” Liam tells him lowly, and Harry knows. He had asked him to help decorate, and he was just going to have to put up with Harry’s version of decorating. Liam’s gaze is steady on him, he can feel it without having to look up. Harry gathers in the garland that’s still intact, lifting it up to Liam.

 “Think you can do anything with this?”

 Liam takes it from him, brow still furrowed. Harry can feel it in the air that there’s something more he wants to say. Rather, he looks the garland over and nods.

 “Probably.”

 He only gives Harry another knowing look, and for some reason Harry feels guilty. Liam would understand, out of any of his friends. But it’s not his secret to tell. It’s one that he had to keep under lock and key no matter what. He feels like a weight has been lifted when Liam doesn’t ask anything more and starts back off down the corridor toward. Harry can distantly hear Louis swearing about something at the other end of it.

 If there was one thing Harry had learned about living with Louis and Liam, it was that peace didn’t last for long. Decorating, however, is a mindless task, and he easily slips into his own thoughts as he hangs the mistletoe from every available corner in his house. He watches the piece of mistletoe he just strung up from one of the light fixtures swing like a pendulum, pushed gently back and forth from the warmth radiating out of the vents. He isn’t paying that much attention, still lost in his own train of thought of how badly he wanted to kiss Niall and how much he needs this to work. He doesn’t realize Louis’ there until he hears him clear his throat and sees him approaching in the corner of his eye.

 “Hey,” he greets him, a bit gruffly. He tries his best to pretend that he was aware of Louis the entire time. Judging by the look he receives - a hand on his hip with an eyebrow cocked – Harry figures that he isn’t buying it.

 “I’m not entirely sure what you’re planning,” Louis starts, pointing to the mistletoe in front of him. “You’re turning our flat into a hazard zone, for one. You’re also turning my party into a potential snogfest and I’m not sure I appreciate that. Mistletoe is also hideous. It better be gone by the time I get home from my mum’s.”

  Harry tries not to laugh, watching Louis as he leans just a bit closer.

 “And if you think for one second that you’re getting any kisses from me, you’re out of your mind.”

 --

 “I don’t really know what to get Louis for his birthday.”

 Harry doesn’t even try to act surprised. Niall has a tendency to leave things until the last minute. It took watching him scramble to finish three assignments the night before the deadline that Harry concluded this might be a normal thing for him. Of course, he found it kind of endearing. Even if Louis’ birthday party was tomorrow, he probably should be impressed that he was thinking about it a day early.

 “I don’t think he really expects anything. His birthday isn’t actually until Christmas Eve though, you could stretch it out and lie a bit if you feel that poorly about it.”

 He leans closer, giving Niall a little nudge with his elbow.

Niall furrows his brow, “I know that Zayn and Liam got him something, and so did Eleanor. She told me, and you did too. I don’t want to be the only one who doesn’t give him anything.”

“He’ll probably be too shitfaced to notice, too,” Harry offers.

Harry doesn’t know why Niall feels the need to give him a look for that comment, but he shoots him a toothy grin.

“He will! Just get him a bottle of vodka or something. There, problem solved.”

Louis’ easy enough to please, Harry doesn’t know why Niall’s concerned about it. He’d be delighted if someone added to his liquor cabinet, not that it really had room for much more. It was a gift he was guaranteed to love either way.

“I’d rather get him something with some thought behind it,” Niall says, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. “That seems too easy.”

“It _does_ have thought behind it. He loves alcohol, and nothing says I love you like giving him more.”

Suddenly it’s silence between them, and Harry glances over at him. His first assumption is that Niall’s thinking, but with his lip between his teeth and gaze cast somewhere off beyond them, Harry realizes that isn’t the case. He follows his gaze, looking off across the slush covered street. Heavy snow drips off of the awnings of a few shops, and despite the cheery decorations outside the store the air between them feels as thick as the clouds hanging overhead.

“What?” Harry questions, still trying to follow his gaze.

He can’t find anything that distracting. There’s people bustling around them trying to get their last minute shopping done, the dirty snow melting on the side walk. His lips quirk into a concerned frown, looking back over at Niall, who gives his head a shake.

“Just thinking, sorry. But if you think he’ll like that, I’ll just do that.”

Harry isn’t convinced, he knows him too well for that. His posture speaks louder than his attempt to convince him that everything’s fine, but he knows better than to push. That’s the thing about Niall, sometimes you have to leave things alone. He doesn’t need coaxing - when he’s ready to share, he does. Harry studies his surroundings again, though, for good measure, trying to see if he had possibly missed anything the first time.

“He will,” he says distractedly. He notices, from the corner of his eye, a couple walking down the street across from them. They’re holding hands. He wonders if that was it, and decides for his own mental sake that maybe it was. It’s an answer that’ll allow him stop picking at all the possible things that could be wrong, and one allows the anxiety to ease from his chest. Going off of his own whim, he gives Niall a little reassuring nudge with his elbow, leaning into him for just a few steps.

Niall smiles a little, and the earlier tension slides from his posture when he exhales. Harry can’t help but to smile, because these little moments are the ones that mean so much.

“He will,” Harry repeats reassuring, looking over at Niall. When Niall’s eyes meet his, there’s a moment where he feels that he’s right. His smiles back, and he’s looking at Harry in a way that he wishes he could keep perfectly in his memory forever.

“Fine, since you’re the expert then.”

“I am the expert. We’ve lived together for far too long.”

Harry lets their shoulders brush once more, stepping toward the doors of the quaint little coffee shop they like to visit on the corner of the road.

“Come on, let’s get hot chocolate and warm up first. Lou’s present can wait.”

\--

Harry nods his head along to the beat of a song. He vaguely recognizes the sound of _All I Want for Christmas,_ but the beat is remixed and it sounds like some sort of poorly made up house mix. Louis has a thing about music, though, and Harry isn’t planning to be the one to tell him that remixed Christmas music is stupid. There isn’t much you can say to Louis at his parties, anyway. He can only shake his head to himself and try to maneuver his way through their crowded living room. It’s not a huge party, but their flat isn’t the most spacious place on a good day; the moment there are more than five people in the room, everyone gets packed together like sardines. Louis is squished happily on the couch with a shit eating grin on his face, though, so really none of them would have it any other way.

Despite the crowd of people surrounding him, Harry feels a heaviness in his chest. There’s something missing among the rooms lit by Christmas lights with garland lining the walls. Or, rather, someone. Niall was supposed to be here. He hadn’t just promised Harry, but Louis too. Harry chews at his lip, eyes scanning the room. He knows Niall didn’t go back on his word. Niall’s not like that.

Harry tries to redirect his focus. He ignores the sudden feeling that it’s too crowded, or that his heart is beating too fast and his palms feel clammy. Liam’s standing off away from the couches, and Harry gravitates toward him instinctually. He’s a familiar face, not that Harry minds talking to people, but there’s something comforting about standing near him in the moment.

Liam grins when Harry approaches him, taking a sip of whatever concoction he’s brewed up.

“How’s it going?” He asks.

Harry lets the wall occupy most of his weight, scanning the crowded living room again. He knows he hasn’t  just missed Niall, the moment he walked into their flat Harry would have spotted him.

“Not bad,” he replies, tilting his head at him. There’s a bit of colour to his cheeks that isn’t there, and his lips quirk up in obvious amusement. He’s suddenly aware that his hands are empty, and his own cup was lost somewhere in the kitchen.

“Lou looks like he’s having a good time, hey? I think everyone is.”

“When isn’t Louis having a good time, though?” Harry shoots back, giving Liam a little nudge with his elbow.

“He’d have a lot to say about you being empty handed tonight.”

Liam nods toward his hands, and Harry grins a bit sheepishly.

“I had something. I forgot it. I’ll get something later. It’s chaos in the kitchen.”

Liam’s eyebrows lift a little, and he takes a careful sip. “It never seems this small until there’s a few people here.”

Harry shakes his head.

“Doesn’t help that Louis’ definition of a few people never seems to meet up with ours.”

“I know, hey? As long as he’s enjoying himself that’s all that matters. We’d never hear the end of it if he had a bad birthday party. Ruin his birthday _and_ Christmas.”

Harry snorts, “at least he goes home  for Christmas. We wouldn’t be exposed to it for too long.”

Liam say something in agreement that Harry doesn’t quite catch. It’s always quiet over the holidays with Louis gone. He welcomes the chaos that Louis seems to usually bring, it’s comforting, and it’s home. Harry blinks when Liam nudges him, and he follows his gaze a bit obliviously when he points up. Harry’s heart drops in his chest a little when he notices the mistletoe hanging above them.

He only manages a quiet “oh” as he stares up, his own plan evidently failing him. Liam wasn’t Niall. He didn’t really _want_ to kiss Liam, but he was leaning toward him and Harry didn’t have the heart to turn his head the other way and hurt his feelings. Luckily, Liam’s had a bit too much rum and it’s quick and painless. Just a tiny peck, but Harry still feels a bit guilty about it.

“Oops,” he says, not wanting there to be an awkward silence between them.

Liam’s laughing good naturedly, and Harry feels a bit of tension. He wonders if he’s blushing, but he doesn’t really want to know. He can at least blame it on the warmth of the room, or the fact he had been drinking at one point. In hindsight, Harry’s almost impressed that he hasn’t been accidentally shoved under the mistletoe with anyone else. His gaze travels along the ceiling in all the spots where he securely tied it up. He makes a note to be more aware, he doesn’t want to get himself in the same situation again.

Niall’s still nowhere to be found, and Harry can feel the heaviness settle back in his chest. He feels a bit lost without him. He looks back up at the mistletoe overhead, almost wishing he hadn’t set so much around the house. He silently hopes that at least someone else will get to kiss someone they’ve been wanting to for a long time tonight. He holds onto the thought just to make himself feel just a bit better. He chats with Liam for a little while longer, trying to keep the disappointment from his tone. Eventually Liam wanders back off to join the group surrounding Louis on the crowded sofa, and Harry decides he needs another drink.

Harry takes his time in the kitchen, cleaning up a few empty bottles that are left on the counter. The place is going to be a disaster in the morning, and he knows Louis will probably want no part in helping the clean-up effort. He supposes it’s his birthday party and he can get away with that. The kitchen is in less of a state of disaster by the time he’s done, and he figures he’ll have to pop in a few times to keep it that way. He’s just about to step out when he runs into Zayn, and Harry can’t help but to laugh at the disgruntled look on his face.

“This music is shit.”

“I know,” Harry agrees lowly, afraid to speak any louder.

“That guy with the hat made it for him, forgot his name. It’s rubbish. If someone gave me that as a gift I don’t think they’d be my friend after that.”

Harry steps out of his way, giving him a bit more room.

“It was thoughtful. Maybe. Lou hasn’t turned it off yet, maybe he digs it.”

Zayn snorts, trying to disguise it by pouring a few different things into his cup.

“I already tried. He told me I was rude, or something. He’s completely shittered already.”

It isn’t something that’s a surprise to Harry, it’s Louis’ birthday after all and they all knew how the night was going to go from previous years. Before he can point that out to Zayn, though, he’s speaking again. Harry tries to focus back on his face.

“Have you seen Niall at all? He said he was coming. I have his headphones that he forgot at my place, don’t wanna be carrying them around all night.”

Harry frowns, trying to ignore the pit of worry that starts to grow in his stomach again. He’d been trying not to think about that, trying to convince himself everything’s fine. Not that Zayn coul have known; not that anyone knew. The room still feels a bit too warm, and Harry rubs the back of his neck.

“He said he was coming. Maybe he just needed to get a few last minute things.”

Zayn shrugs, stepping to the fridge to pull some of the eggnog out.

“Maybe. Do you think they’d all notice out there if I changed the channel from the stupid yule log and actually put something decent on?”

Harry smiles, grateful for the topic change. “Uh, probably. Everyone’s really into watching when people throw new logs on the fire, or whatever.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, and Harry’s lips tug up even more. That’s one of his favorite things about Zayn, he’s always the one out of the five that will be brutally honest when you need it. He mutters something under his breath that Harry doesn’t catch, and straightens back up.

“Do you want any?”

Harry shakes his head, noticing a few plastic cups he missed. He grabs them, tossing them in the trash. He’s suddenly aware of Zayn’s proximity, and he looks up, noticing out of the corner of his eye the mistletoe dangling off the light feature. His earlier mental note about trying to be more aware of his surroundings was one he hadn’t been paying enough attention to.

“Damnit,” he mutters under his breath, and Zayn’s laughing.

He’s more prepared this time when Zayn’s lips meet his, and Harry shifts a little at his stubble against his face. It doesn’t feel right, and fights against the urge to jerk away – Zayn lingers a bit longer than Liam, and he’s still laughing when he pulls back.

“That’s the third time I’ve been caught tonight. It’s bloody everywhere,” Zayn tells him, reaching up to try and untie the mistletoe. He can’t quite reach, and the fact is more amusing to Harry than it probably should be.

“It’s tradition, it’s supposed to be festive! Leave it, I’ll take them all down later.”

Harry struggles to keep his voice even and light, because there’s a part of him that just wants to let him take it all down. He still holds onto the hope that Niall’s going to come, and that his efforts aren’t going to be completely wasted. He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the inevitable.

Zayn scowls at him, taking a long sip of his drink.

“You’re gonna make for a lot of awkward situations.”

Harry tilts his head at him, grinning cheekily.

“Or I’m going to make someone’s night. It’s all about perspective.”

“Right. Perspective.”

Zayn doesn’t look convinced, but he gives Harry’s shoulder a little squeeze before reluctantly making his way back to the party. He’s glad Zayn showed up, he was the one that no one was ever sure about when it came to attendance. It’s always Zayn that never shows up, not Niall. As much as he’s not trying to think about it, he can’t not. Harry digs through his pockets, tugging his phone out and sending a quick message to Niall asking if he’s still coming. He feels a bit bad, because maybe he’s just late. But Harry can’t shake the worry, and desperately wishes more than anything else that Niall was here.

-

Niall doesn’t answer his text message, and Harry spends the rest of the evening with his stomach in knots. He tries to focus on the conversation, crammed on their tiny sofa beside Louis for most of the night. Harry knows there’s still time, but the crowd is beginning to thin to a more comfortable number of people and he still feels like he can’t sit still. Louis seems to notice, with the occasional hand on his back or nudge of his knee. He appreciates his friends, and he tries so hard to focus on the rare time that they’re all together in a room. Niall’s absence is one that sits too heavy, and he wonders if the rest of them feel it the same way he does.

The music is quieter now, the awful remix long finished. Harry vaguely recognizes Michael Bublé singing Winter Wonderland behind the low chatter between the handful of people still left. Niall would have appreciated the music, Harry knows how much he loves Bublé. He’s too restless to stay, and he pushes himself away from the crowd, using the fact he’s been sitting so long as an excuse.

He hums along to the faint sound of Bublé in the in the kitchen, stacking up the empty containers with just a few crumbs remaining in them. Everything had gone smoothly for Louis, and the place wasn’t in too much of a state of disaster thanks to Harry’s occasional cleaning. The pieces of wrapping paper littering the living room floor is nothing compared to what he had been anticipating. He finished tidying up the table, brushing his hands on his jeans when he hears the quiet sound of someone clearing their throat behind him.

“Hey.”

The word is quiet, and if Harry hadn’t been suddenly focused on the presence behind him it wouldn’t have been audible. Harry spins around, staring at Niall who is now behind him with his eyebrows raised hopefully.

“What?” He stammers. He blinks hard a few times, trying to make sure that he isn’t completely imagining the sight in front of him. Niall’s right there, giving him a squinty eyed smile with a few strands of hair poking out from under his beanie.

Niall licks his lips, shifting a little before holding up a piece of mistletoe that had been behind his back. For a moment Harry wonders where he even got it from, and if he had somehow managed to pull it down from the ceiling in the time that he’d been in the kitchen. Harry tries to piece everything together, then it hits him: Niall’s holding a piece of mistletoe over his head.

The corners of his eyes crinkle, and his heart does a summersault in his chest. He’s stepping closer without a second thought, hands delicately curling around his hips before leaning to press his lips against his. It’s the soft feeling of Niall’s lips against his and the immediate longing for more that surges through him. The sensation had been lost the other times the boy’s lips met his, and Harry was almost overwhelmed with how much he’d missed the feeling of Niall kissing him in the short time that they had been apart. It felt right, and Harry relaxed into the feeling, giving his hips a little squeeze.

His heart soars through his chest, because there’s people in the other room. Everything seems still around them, but he’s distantly aware of the conversation carrying on around them. When he finally pulls away, Niall’s smiling softly at him.  

“Hi,” Harry replies slowly, still trying to process the sight in front of him.

He notices the color that touches Niall’s cheeks, the way he looks away before looking at him. He’s leaning into him now, and Harry wraps his arms around him easily. “You’re here,” he continues, keeping his voice low. He didn’t want this moment ruined by someone in the other room taking Niall away from him, not when he had him in his arms and knew he was okay.

“I told you I was going to.”

Furrowing his brow, he looks down at him.

“You’re three hours late.”

Harry feels a bit guilty when Niall adverts his gaze, looking back up at him.

“I was trying to get last minute presents done,” he admits, “for the guys. It just took longer than I thought. I wanted to make sure everyone had something before I had to go back to my parents place. I shouldn’t have put it off so long.”

Niall’s blushing more now, and Harry almost laughs, but he lets him continues on.

“I wanted to get you something special and then I panicked and yeah, sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay,” he tells him softly, letting his hand drift to cup his cheek. Harry strokes his thumb over the skin so gently. His heart is racing at the little gesture, it was something he longed to do when it was just the two of them. There were so many times where he had desperately wanted to touch him like this, so careful and intimate in a place where everyone could see – but he knew he couldn’t. He still isn’t sure if it’s okay, even if he just kissed him. But Niall doesn’t pull away or tell him no, and Harry feels elated just from that. His cheeks hurt from smiling, and he drops his hand back down to his hip.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Of course I did. I need to go wish Louis a proper happy early birthday, though, I didn’t say much to him. Came to find you first.”

To Harry’s surprise, Niall closes the distance between them again. The kiss is soft, and doesn’t last nearly as long as the first. It still has Harry staring after him as he leaves, wide eyed and in disbelief of the events that had all just occurred in the past few minutes. Then he hears Niall’s laughter over the music, a loud and genuine sound, and Harry can’t help but follow it back into the living room.

-

Harry stifles a yawn as he watches the last few people leave. He hadn’t expected the remaining stragglers to stay for as long as they had, and he’s exhausted right through to his bones. He watches the lazy flakes of snow fall outside the safety of the doorway, and only pulls his gaze away when he feels a sharp jab in his ribs.

“Ow,” he hisses, looking over where Niall’s curled against the couch arm beside him.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Despite the fact Harry would much rather stay where it was warm and dry, he can’t say no to Niall. Louis announces loudly that he’s going to go to bed, and Harry pushes himself up to say a quick goodnight before leaving with Niall.

Louis is watching him a bit wearily as he approaches, and Harry can’t quite piece together why. He follows Louis gave upwards, noticing the mistletoe above them. His first instinct is to panic, because Niall’s right there and he doesn’t want to kiss Louis of all people. Luckily, Louis crosses his arms over his chest, giving him a little scowl.

“I told you I’m not kissing you under your bullshit mistletoe. Nice try.”

Harry can’t help but to laugh, leaning to wrap his arms around him instead.

“Yeah, you did. You caught me.”

Louis seems satisfied by that, and gives him a quick hug before disappearing down the hall.

He turns to Niall who’s already all bundled up, trying his best to hide his blush. Niall looks amused by it all, and Harry doesn’t really blame him. “Long story,” he mutters as he tugs his coat on, stepping to push the door open.

“I have time,” Niall replies, making no effort to hide the amusement from his voice. He follows Harry from the warmth of the house, shivers before pulling his scarf up over his face more. “Louis already complained about you putting mistletoe all around his house, if that’s the story.”

Harry feels the heat creep up the back of his neck, staring down at the snow covered sidewalk. He doesn’t know where they’re going, but he falls into step beside him anyways.  

“Oh. It’s decorative, and festive. Mistletoe is a tradition, really.”

He leans into Niall a bit boldly as they walk, and he almost feels light headed that it suddenly feels okay to do that. Maybe it’s just the moment, or maybe it’s the alcohol giving him a false sense of security. He doesn’t overthink it, just holds onto the feeling and looks over at Niall. He’s so beautiful, it isn’t quite fair – he looks a bit like an angel with bright eyes and light hair, especially with the tiny flecks of snow building on his jacket. He notices the flush to his cheeks, and even in the darkness, Niall seems to radiate brighter than anything he’s ever seen.

“Why did you really put it up?” Niall questions.

Lying is something he considers, but it’s Niall and he knows he can’t.

“It’s kind of stupid,” Harry warns. It made all the sense in the world when he was doing it, but. talking about it all out loud makes him foolish. “I just… really wanted to kiss you. I guess. Which is dumb because I could kiss you anytime if I wanted, but I just wanted to be able to kiss you and then you wouldn’t have to worry because it’s _mistletoe_ and it’s all kind of a right laugh, isn’t it?” He realizes he’s rambling, and the words are coming quicker than he wants him to.

“It’s dumb. I’m sorry. I really wanted to kiss you and I thought it was cute. It isn’t really cute, is it-“

Niall steps in front of him, and Harry closes his jaw with an audible snap. He whines quietly, not knowing what else to do in the moment. He wishes Niall would just let them keep walking, so he wouldn’t have to see his face. He looks so sincere, and Harry just feels stupid now that he’s voiced his complete failure of a master plan. Guilt bubbles in his stomach, and he’s starting to talk again before he can even think of stopping himself.

“It was a disaster. I had to kiss Liam and Zayn, I didn’t _want_ to kiss them.”

His expression is one that quickly turns apologetic, and Harry leans closer to Niall.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Niall’s laughing, and Harry’s worry twists into something close to relief.

“It’s not funny! It was awful! I kept feeling horrible about it, too!”

“You kissed _Liam_ and _Zayn_ under mistletoe and you expect me not to laugh?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! I told you it was a disaster. I kept ending up with everyone except you. It was awful.”

He can’t help but to laugh along with him, because only Niall would find that amusing. He wraps his arms around him, pulling him back close. Niall fits against him so easily, a warm and comforting weight in his arms. He sinks into him without a moment of hesitation, and Harry wonders if he’s really imaging all of this. Even if it’s just them under the twinkling of multicolored lights lining the roofs of the houses, anyone could walk by, peer out their window, see them standing there.

“I couldn’t think of a good present for you, everything I got for you is kind of lame,” Niall admits, tilting his head in a way that makes Harry shift back a little to look at him properly. He’s furrowing his brow again, tongue running over his lips before continuing, “I was thinking we could go ice skating, I know you said you wanted to go.”

 “You remembered,” Harry breathes, because it had just been something he had said in passing weeks ago. Of course Niall remembered, he had a knack for things like that.

 “’Course I did. So, it’s a date then?”

 "Yeah.”

 Harry’s brow furrows after a moment at the realization of what he had said. A date? He tilts his head, watching Niall curiously. Niall’s just beaming at him, as if he had been waiting for that to fully connect.

 “You want to take me on a proper date?”

 “Yeah, I do.”

 Niall runs his hands over Harry’s jacket, gently brushing the snow away from the fabric.

 “Best Christmas present ever,” Harry murmurs, leaning to press his lips against his Niall’s.

 His heart swells in his chest as Niall kisses him under the streetlight. Niall wants to take him on a proper date, out where everyone can see. Harry would have honestly waited forever for him, but now… suddenly, they’re moving forward into something else. It’s something little, but to him it feels bigger and better than anything he could ever be gifted with.

 “Happy early Christmas,” Niall mumbles against his lips.

 Harry kisses him just a bit harder, fingers curling tight into the fabric of his jacket. He loves him, he knows he does. And maybe, just maybe one day he’ll be able to scream it from the rooftops.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
